After that chaotic day at Arrowhead, when everything seemed to spiral out of control, I found myself sitting alone, reflecting on a truth I hadn't fully accepted until now: I had a crush on Isiah Pacheco.It wasn't something that had just happened overnight. No, it had been building up for years, ever since we both got drafted into the NFL. I remember the first time we met. He had this energy about him, like he could take on the world and still have enough left to lift up everyone around him. We hit it off quickly, laughing during practice and pushing each other to be better. But somewhere along the way, things changed for me.It wasn't just the way he smiled or the way he celebrated a good play with that infectious excitement. It was deeper than that. Isiah made me feel... seen. Like I wasn't just another guy on the team, another cog in the machine. He looked at me like I mattered, even when I didn't feel like I did.I started catching myself thinking about him more, wondering what he was up to after practice, or smiling when he cracked a dumb joke. It felt like I had known him forever, even though we'd only met a few years ago. Sometimes, it was like we'd been friends since middle school, back when life was simpler, and everything wasn't so complicated.But this crush—it wasn't something I could talk about. I mean, how do you tell your teammate, your best friend, that you've started feeling more than just friendship? Especially when everything felt so fragile, like one wrong move could shatter it all.I couldn't admit it to him, but the feelings were there, simmering under the surface. Every time I saw him, it hit me a little harder. His laugh, the way he got serious during a game, how he always had my back even when I was doubting myself—it all made my chest tighten.One day after practice, I was sitting on the bench, staring out at the field, lost in thought. Isiah came over and sat next to me, bumping my shoulder in that playful way he always did."What's up, Butker? You look like you're in deep thought," he said, flashing that stupid grin that always made everything seem better."Nah, just thinking about the next game," I lied, giving him a half-hearted smile. "Yeah, sure," he teased. "You're always in your head, man. You gotta relax sometimes."I wanted to tell him right then. I wanted to spill everything—to confess that he was the one I thought about late at night, that his support meant more to me than he'd ever know. But I couldn't. I couldn't risk ruining what we had.Instead, I just shrugged it off. "Yeah, I guess. You're right."He smiled, but something in my chest twisted painfully as we sat in comfortable silence. I knew I couldn't tell him. Not yet, maybe not ever. But that didn't stop the feelings from building. As the weeks passed, the crush only grew stronger. Sometimes, I wondered if he could tell—if he noticed the way I looked at him a second too long or how I laughed at every joke, even the dumb ones. But if he did, he never said anything. He just kept being Isiah, the same guy I'd always known, and that made it even harder to shake these feelings.Loving Isiah, in secret, was both the easiest and hardest thing I'd ever done. Easy, because he was everything good in my life. Hard, because I knew I could never tell him. Not without risking everything. So I kept it buried, waiting for the day when I'd figure out what to do next.Until then, I just had to keep pretending, keep pushing down the feelings whenever they bubbled up. Because, at the end of the day, being his friend—even with all this hidden—was better than losing him altogether.
